Sometimes hyperventilating leads to snogging with The God of Mischief
by lavenderchaosquill
Summary: Okay, so maybe this Valentine's Day wasn't going as well as Darcy would've hoped; Trapped in a very, very small storage closet with Loki and a bunch of Valentine's Day decorations. But it could get better. Like, you know, making out with said god in the aforementioned storage closet. ... The day had its perks, she'd give it that. (Contains Phlint & Tasertricks. Swearing, no smut


Fandom: Avengers/Thor

Rating: T - M, but there's no smut, I'm just paranoid.

Warnings: Swearing. Preeeeeeety detailed making out. Mentions/lead ups to sex.

Length: 7900 - Lets call it 8k shall we?

Pairings: TaserTricks (Loki/Darcy) & side - Phlint (Phil/Clint)

Disclaimer: Oh look, my favourite bit. All these characters (because none of my OC's are mentioned in this fic) belong to Marvel (The lucky ducks). I'm just borrowing them for a while, kay? I swear to return them (mostly) in one piece :)

Hey dudes! And dudettes of course, where are my manners? So this is my first time publishing something I've written that I actually _**like**_. I just wanna ask you guys (and girls!) to please please please go easy on me! Just a little bit .

Also, this fic hasn't been beta'd by anyone, so if you spot a mistake, or feel like something's missing (I kinda write things in bits and pieces :P) Let me know! c:

I actually started this fic like, a year ago? But I never got the inspiration to get of my lazy but and finish it. Until now. It's taken me two weeks to finish this, on and off, and I'm literally finish the last bit now; at a quarter to 10 on the night before Valentines Day (I'm hopefully posting it tomorrow, on the actual Valentine's Day, if everything works out). I'm cutting it close, but I did it :)

Enjoy darlings!

Squeak :3

**Sometimes hyperventilating leads to snogging with The God of Mischief**

Personally, Darcy had no idea how Phil put up with him. The guy disappeared every five minuets! Not that she could blame him though; the guys _were _kinda playing up the whole Valentines Day thing a bit much. But _still_, she certainly wasn't a master assassin, he could at least do her the courtesy of making himself easier to find. Even if it was only a little bit. She supposed that was why Natasha had offered to search more floors.

She'd been searching for a good hour or so, and had managed to get through almost half of her assigned floors. The floor she was on now had almost been completely checked, with only the small store room at the end of the corridor left to go. According to JARVIS, the only thing in there were spare Valentines Day decorations, so it was extremely unlikely Clint would be in there, since it was the reason he ran off in the first place.

Which was exactly why she decided to have a look.

It made total sense; it was the last place anyone would look, so it was the perfect place to hide.

She wished she could just ask JARVIS where he was, but Clint must have either managed to bypass him entirely, hidden himself from JARVIS somehow, or asked him not to reveal his location. So she was forced to look manually until she found the sneaky bastard. At least she knew what to do with him afterwards; chew him out a little bit- for making her look for him this long- and then return him to his equally sneaky, equally snarky boyfriend. At least Phil would be able to keep him away from the prying eyes of The Avengers until the Valentine's jokes calmed down. Plus, she figured it would give them some time together on Valentine's Day. Darcy, however, was spending today _alone_, as per usual. Or at least she was, as soon as she found Clint and dragged his grumpy ass back to Phil. Then she would go to her room, kick off her shoes, curl up on the sofa with a couple of blankets and watch her favourite TV programmes whilst eating a ton of 75% off chocolates, hell, maybe later she would try and make some cupcakes that didn't absolutely suck, which she only ever did on Valentine's Day when she was angry, because they never seemed to turn out right. Ironically, V-Day seemed to be a bad day for cupcake baking.

This year would be different. She would actually _**do**_ her plan, _**and**_ make awesome non-sucky cupcakes. Unlike last year, when she was called in by her (back then) single-as-a-pringle friend Jane to _work_. Which sounded suspiciously like the year before as well. Then the year before that she set fire to her oven. The year before that she got stood up in her favourite restaurant- which, funnily enough, isn't her favourite any more- and then the year before that she was ill. Basically, every Valentine's Day since she was born _sucked. _This year was her first year in the A Tower, with her huge TV and unlimited boxsets and download memory, so she was fucking determined to make the best of it.

"Lady Darcy?"

Eh?

Oh. In the midst of her inner ramblings, it would seem she had actually _opened_ the store room door and _walked_ inside.

And there _was_ someone in there.

It just wasn't Clint.

"Uh, hi?"

It was _Loki_.

Crouched mid-bend in the act of picking box, halfway their before Darcy had barged in unannounced and caught him off guard

"Hello?" He set the box- which upon closer inspection appeared to be full of pink and red fluffy balloons (how fluffy balloons were even possible, she didn't want to know)- down, before straightening up and clearing his throat, "Are you looking for me?"

"Actually I was looking for Clint, he gets a lot of shit off the guys this time of year. You know, 'cause of the whole 'Archer - Cupid' thing. He ran off about an hour ago, so Natasha's searching for him on floors B7 to 88 and I'm on 89 to 129. Why are you here anyway?" She threw a quizzical glance at him and put her hands on her hips, cocking her head to one side. "This isn't exactly 'Evil Lair' material if that's what you're after. Too much pink."

"I quite agree, there are too many hearts."

"Not enough, um... Evil."

"Yes, not nearly enough Evil."

"Bats!" She cried.

"... I beg you pardon?"

"Bats." She said quieter, blushing a bit, "You'd need bats. In all the movies, the lair is in like, a cave and all the good guys walk in and wake the bats above them, and than they wet themselves and runaway screaming like girls! Those are the best bits in films like that!" The excitement practically radiated from her being, as she began to flap her hands about like a fool.

"I have yet to see these films you speak of." He looked intrigued. She was definitely introducing him to some of them at their next movie night. And Batman. And possibly some Scooby Doo.

"Well they're awesome." She stated, crossing her arms, "You should totally see them, with Ice Cream and cookies and non-burnt cupcakes."

"... What is this 'Iced Cream' you speak of? Is it some Midgardian confectionery?"

Darcy stared at him, her previously crossed arms now dangling like string beside her. "You- you've never had Ice Cream?"

"I have not."

"... WHAT THE FREAKIN HELL HAVE YOU DONE WITH YOUR LIFE?! HOW THE ACTUAL FUCK HAVE YOU NOT TRIED ICE CREAM?!"

Loki's eyes widened in panic, "It has never come to my attention before now!"  
Was it some sort of important Midgardian delicacy that he'd missed?

"Dude!" Darcy exclaimed, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the door.

Loki dug his heels into the ground and began to protest in a slightly higher octave than was usually preferred. "Miss Lewis! What are you doing?!"

"I'm taking you for Ice Cream of course!"

"Now?!"

"Well duh! We gotta get you to a supermarket now! Nobody should have gone this long without Ice cream! Your like, a gazillion years old and you haven't had Ice Cream before! Even if you were as old as you look, since you look about 25, you shouldn't have been deprived of the magical gift that is Ice Cream!"

He put his hand on his hip and sent her a withering glare, although it was less effective when being dragged by a surprisingly strong tiny mortal girl.

"I'll have you know I'm not 'a gazillion years old', as you so put it. I'm only-" His age defence was abruptly cut off as Darcy slammed head first into the door that he was sure was open before, and the lights flickered off, effectively blinding them.

They were silent for a moment, each trying to process the previous minuet. Finally, Darcy seemed to have reached a conclusion that, in itself, seemed quite valid considering what had just transpired.

"This room hates me."

* * *

It had been about five minuets, but the two of them had managed to root through the boxes to find some source of lighting that wasn't from Darcy's phone. Eventually they'd yanked out a spool of tiny fairy lights. Again using the phone, Loki had shoved the plug into a socket - how Thor hadn't worked out how to uses such simple Midgardian technology was beyond him- behind a shelf as Darcy hung the lights around the ceiling a few times, luckily the blighters came with pre-attached suction cups every meter, so, relatively speaking, it was easy for her to stick them to the flat surfaces above. Darcy was grateful for the boxes of decorations to stand on.  
At least until she fell down and nearly hung herself with fairy lights.

Loki sighed, and helped her unwrap herself.  
"Now see! This is why I hate Valentines," She rasped.

"The decorations attack you?"  
He felt his eyebrow inch upwards.

"Bad things happen to me. I make it a rule of life to stay inside, away from all this stuff. You know, I couldn't really give a shit about all this lovey-dovey crap. I'd rather sit at home and burn cupcakes."

"Because they remind you of all the sickly oversweet frivolities of the season?"

Darcy shoved a random cardboard box of crap behind her and sat down, kicking off her shoes and throwing them by the door so she could pull her knees up to her chin.

"Because my oven has less temperature control than a menopausal woman."

Loki burst out laughing.  
It was a rather sinister -if pretty cute- laugh, Darcy noted. It sounded like pure mischief, unrefined and unbelievably sexy. Somehow, it managed to be both loud and quiet, low pitched and high, and despite the fact her lady parts were currently doing a dance of joy down south, she found herself grinning at him.  
A proper grin, not the usual 'That's right, I'm hilarious!' smirk.

"You just gonna stand there? Cuz your kinda... Tall"

Indeed, the top of his head was grazing the ceiling.  
Loki chuckled, pulling out a box of his own. This one contained packets of unused paper streamers laden with little cardboard hearts.

"These rooms appear to have been made for hobbits." he said, sitting down.

The heat immediately rushed to Darcy's cheeks as she noticed how he sat; legs apart. Legs way, WAY apart. She forced herself not to either drool or physically close them herself. (Because really, what sane woman would close them? Plus it would be weird to have an almost complete stranger randomly reach over and close your legs.)  
"So I'm a Hobbit now?" she scoffed jokingly.  
'That's it,' she told herself, 'stall. And for God's sake, DON'T look at his crotch! Look anywhere but down... Look at his eyes! Yes, his eyes. Make eye-contact, otherwise it's weird. And rude.' Darcy took a moment to force down the blush that she knew was present on her cheeks, she could only hope that the fairy lights threw off his sight and made whatever pink was on her face part of the cutesy valentines glow the little buggers were giving off.

So she looked him in the eye.

And DAMN!

If it wasn't enough that she was sat in an enclosed space barley 2x2 meters wide, in extremely close proximity with a devilishly handsome Demi-God who, quite frankly, sat like a whore and laughed like sex on a stick, this man also had possibly the most amazing eyes she had ever seen in her entire life.

Seriously. So far, she hadn't been able to tell whether his eyes were blue or green. In all honesty, during the time she'd spent with him she hadn't really looked. She had no meaning to. Except now she was mentally constructing a pair of horse blinders just to keep her self from staring at his pants because this man simply couldn't keep his goddamn legs shut. So yes, mental horse blinders on and looking at his eyes.  
His fucking gorgeous blue AND green eyes. Because they were both. Sometimes, she reasoned, they must be more green than blue, and others, more blue than green. At least that would explain why one minuet she'd notice him and see that his eyes were blue and then the next minuet go 'I swear his eyes were blue... My mistake, they're green.'  
It was kinda odd, Darcy admitted. She didn't think it was possible to have green and blue eyes at the same time. It wasn't like they were turquoise, no, they WERE a perfect blend of the two colours, but not in a spectrum-y way. More like two stained glass windows had been broken and mixed together, so that the shards mingled perfectly.

Shit. Maybe she should write poetry or something.

Okay, she REALLY needed something to take her mind off all this.

"Well you are rather... vertically challenged."

Sex-on-a-stick spoke again; A reply. She could work with that. Hopefully.  
"That's the polite way of putting it, I usually just get called 'short-ass'." she huffed good-naturedly, shooting him a grin, "It's better than being six foot infinity, at least I can walk into rooms without decapitating myself."

He frowned slightly.

Or should that be sexily... No! Bad Darcy, down girl!

"At least I can put up fairy lights without having to stand on things." he smirked.

Holy shit.

The man just smirked.

'That smirk should be illegal just for pure levels of smexy hotness' Darcy told herself. If he did that again, she would probably explode.

Or take a picture. If it wouldn't have been creepy and socially unacceptable in general. (And she CERTAINLY wouldn't go home and cry over it because it was so freaking gorgeous. Nope, wouldn't be doing that. Cause it's wrong. Really wrong. Oh so wrong! And very tempting...)

Dammit Darcy! Start talking again before you creep him out!

Shit! Her mind went blank. She didn't really have a comeback for that last short comment, but she couldn't let him win! Darcy could never concede defeat in a battle of verbal wit and will! She needed words. Just some words. Any words, preferably some that didn't make her sound like an idiot.

"... I like your hat; it's very pretty and horny. Can I have it?"

* * *

Oh.  
My.  
Fucking.  
God.

'So this is what dying feels like...' Thought Darcy.  
'I can't believe I just said that.'  
Her brain was currently screaming at her so many times at once it sounded like dinosaur was cheering for a world cup.

Dinosaurs. World cup.  
Well . Her mind was just doing _swimmingly_ today wasn't it?  
Maybe she was high.  
Or drunk...  
Had she inhaled a pixie stick today? She remembered seeing a stack in the shop on her way to the tower this morning, but she couldn't recall going in to buy any. Perhaps she'd been drugged at some point in the day. Or unknowingly received a concussion at lunch.  
Maybe, just maybe, she hadn't said it at all. Maybe she just THOUGHT she'd said it.

She risked a brief glance in his direction to check his face.  
And not for levels of hotness this time.  
His current expression was somewhere between shock, curiosity, defensive, (probably at the notion of letting someone else touch his precious helmet,) and the obvious desire to laugh out loud all rolled into one.  
There was the slight widening of eyes - shock, the (sexy)raised eyebrow - curiosity, the way his eyes flashed and slightly narrowed - defensive, and his mouth (Brain, shut up. Don't even start,) quivered slightly (officially writing unintentional porn in my head,) as he tried so very hard to suppress a laugh.

Willing herself to make sense for the fewest of seconds, Darcy tried to see of she could remedy the situation.

"It's non-mortal-y. We don't get a lot of that around here."

'Okay, well that didn't work.'

"I mean, I'm not really on board with the whole 'Asgardian macho warrior get up', It's pretty cliché if I'm honest."

'That's enough now Darce.'

"Not that I'm saying you don't pull it off,'

'...Seriously Darcy, I think you should stop now.'

"Cuz _**man**_, do you pull it off,"

'Darcy. No.'

"Everyone else makes it look fake, like Thor- you know Thor right?'

'_Darcy. NO._'

'-his outfits kinda cool, but it's just, seems too super-hero-y, you know what I mean?"

'_NO_.'

'But you, _dude_, you could put on Asgardian armour made of pink neon plastic and make it look more authentic and sexy than Thor. Hell, you could come in wearing a _potato sack_ and you'd still look hot. Asgard's got nothing on you.

'_STOP TALKING.'_

"And I know I said I wasn't a big fan of the whole 'Asgard get-up',"

'_STOP TALKING __**RIGHT NOW**__._'

"But that hat? Sexiest thing I've ever seen,"

'_DARCYFORTHELOVEOFGODSTOPFUCK INGTALKING'_

Loki's jaw dropped as Darcy clapped her hands over her mouth and let out a squeaky gasp.

His eyes were unbelievably wide, like soup dishes, but Darcy doubted they were as wide as hers. Her hands flew away from her mouth; she quickly tried to make some attempt at backtracking,

and started flapping them about in what was meant to be a calming gesture, but actually looked like she was having a panic attack.

"Wait! No! I- I didn't mean that! Well, I did, actually, but- I uh, I mean, uh,"

Which was a real possibility at this point.

Loki flinched as Darcy started gasping for air, rocking back and forth on the little cardboard box. When she threw a hand over her chest and started clutching at the skin beneath her collarbone, the little magic penny seemed to drop. He lurched forward from his seat (or box) and got about three inches away from her face before freezing, looking for all the world like a rabbit in the headlights.

'A sexy rabbit...' Her mind started to supply, before she stopped it, 'STOP! I'm fucking hyperventilating; you don't have enough oxygen for this!'

"You're hyperventilating!?"

'Okay, I guess I must have said that out loud'

"Yes. You did, how do you find rabbits sexually desirable? "

Darcy let out a frustrated scream and started flapping her other hand at her face, before making clawing motions at his face. She appeared to scare the shite out of him, if the level of terror on his face was any indication, and he immediately snapped to attention. Loki put his hands on her shoulders- because that was gonna help _so_ much- and looked straight into her eyes, telling her to calm down and _breathe_.

Hyperventilation basically consists of rapid breathing and he was telling her to _breathe_!? Was this dude on crack?

Well, it obviously wasn't working very well, -no shit Sherlock- because the next thing Darcy knew, Loki was hooking his arms underneath her armpits and hoisting her up, then down onto the ground and pushing her onto her back.

'What the fuck does lying down have to do with anything? Is he gonna do some of that freaky magic stuff on- _jesusfuckingchrist that's a lovely view of his crotch._'

"Darcy! _**Breathe**_**!**"

'_Fuck!_'

She gasped and took in a huge lungful of air; apparently she must have stopped breathing at some point on the way down to the ground. Her back arched as she drew in breath, and twisted in a way that she honestly didn't know was possible for her. Anyway, gymnastic revelations aside, the twisting gave her stomach cramps, which fucking _hurt._ They made her cough and sputter, which made her start hyperventilating again.

Great.

From her position on the floor, she could see Loki was starting to panic slightly; he was starting to take slower, more deliberate breaths and his nostrils were beginning to flare slightly. There really wasn't much room in the closet, so Loki had to push back the boxes to bend her knees up, like she did when she put her laptop on her stomach. Only this time, there weren't any hilarious cat gifs to keep her entertained. Instead, she was hyperventilating inside a tiny room- which was definitely getting fucking smaller, she was sure of it- surrounded by fairy lights which were making her dizzy, with a Norse Demi-God holding her hands and-

Wait what?

Oh my god he actually _was_. Well, kinda. He was moving her left hand onto her belly, just below the ribs, before taking the other one and laying it on her chest.

"Now for the love of Midgard Darcy, calm down and _breathe_, slowly and carefully. Once every five seconds should do it."

She managed to nod at him, watching as he got down on his knees beside her- how he managed that, in this room, she'd never know- and tucked the hair away from her face. Loki put is hands on her shoulders again and started doing that creepy don't-blink-at-all-eye-contact thing he appeared to be so fucking good at.

"I want you to count with me Darcy, one to five, count with me, and when I say five; take a deep, slow breath, then let it out, Okay?"

Darcy let out a strangled wheeze and he nodded at her, taking one hand off of her shoulder and holding it up in front of their faces, splaying out the fingers. The other hand stayed firm where it was, keeping a tight hold, but it didn't hurt. It felt nice. Grounding. Just like Loki's voice when he started speaking again.

"Ready? One. Two. Three. Four. Five." He counted along with his fingers, using his hand as a visual guide for her. It helped, and when he got to five, she was ready and on time to take a nice long breath, letting it out a second later.

"Good, Darcy. That went perfectly." He let out a slightly shaky breath of his own, and the grip on her shoulder wavered a bit, squeezing a little tighter. He smiled at her, and god _damn_ if that smile wasn't the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. "Were going to do it again, and then a couple more times." Darcy nodded.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five."

She repeated her actions before; wait till 'five', breath in, breath out.

"Brilliant," He smiled at her, and almost set her off all over again, but she held steady.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five."

They kept it up for around five minuets, with Loki praising her each time she took a clean breath. They weren't always perfect; they had the occasional hiccup (literally,) or a splutter, but each time, she felt him squeeze her shoulder and she grounded herself and tried again.

It took a little while, but she eventually calmed enough to bury her face in her hands and scream a bit. Loki, for his part, just sat back and watched. He studied her closely, probably trying to see if anything else was wrong, and apart from an achy chest and sore throat, she was fine. The lights weren't bothering her anymore, her eyes were fine, she wasn't dizzy or nauseous and she was breathing normally again, so it wasn't all bad.

After a few seconds of muffled screaming, she peeled her hands away from her face and managed to sit up. Her hands were now covered in mascara and a little eye shadow, so Darcy brushed her fingers around her eyes. They came away wet and black, so she figured at some point her eyes started watering and managed to completely ruin her makeup. "Ugh, remind me _never, __**ever**_ to do that again, it's ruined my makeup." She scrubbed at her eyes, and her sleeve came back black. She'd probably smudged it to hell and made it worse. Darcy groaned. "Valentine's Day hates me, I look like crap, and feel like crap warmed up. This is turning out to be the worst day in the history of everything."

Loki gave her a once over, "Well you look fine to me."

She smiled him, "Aww, you know, you're sweet, but you don't have to lie just to make me feel better."

He frowned at her. "Excuse me? You think I would lie about that?"

"Well, uh, no offence, but it's kinda your job..."

"Whilst you have a valid point," he shrugged, "I never lie about a lady's beauty unless my mother is forcing me to mingle with one of her unbearable social friends. I believe Stark calls them 'Cougars', although I see little resemblance to the feline." The grimace on his face was mixed with slight confusion, but it seemed the unpleasant 'mother-mingle-memory' won out, facially.

She giggled a bit, but still. She looked like a mess at the moment, she was fully aware of it, although it really was incredibly sweet of him to lie to her like that.

Darcy had no idea if she'd spoken aloud again, or if there was just doubt etched across her face, but when he spoke again, she wondered if she could actually read minds.

"I mean it you know. I'm not lying."

Damn. That was freaking creepy.

"Oh come on, You've been to thousands of, uh, parties in your time, I'm sure you've met many chicks that float your boat better than me," she gave a snort, "I mean, look at me, then look at you. You're a _God_ for crying out loud! And a pretty smokin' one at that, I'll bet you had women crawling all over you every single day"

Loki gave a snort of his own, "Hardly. Thor or Mother would always introduce me to their 'lady friends' at balls or feasts, even though I had no interest in speaking to them. They were all the same, either terrified of me and my dear silvertounge, to busy gushing over Thor to be of any pay any mind to me, or too full of themselves and their supposed 'beauty' to gain any more intelligence than a frog."

"Surely they're not _that _bad!"

"You, on the other hand, sell your self much too short."

"Hey!"

Loki threw her a derisive look. She smiled at him, but shut up and let him continue.

"You are the most brilliant company I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. You don't shy away, you damn well speak your mind, you've insulted Thor more times than I can count, your intellect astounds me, and I've never met someone with as much raw wit and sarcasm as you. You don't brag about the looks you posses, in fact, you don't even seem to notice them most of the time. I still don't understand how you don't realise it, but you are truly beautiful, in both body and mind, and I've never felt as comfortable and at ease around anyone. Ever. I've never had as much fun with anybody else in my life, certainly never so easily."

He could see tears start to form in the corner of her eyes and began to panic. Had he said something wrong?

"That..." she broke off and sniffed a little, and wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve. "That's the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me in my entire life." Loki made a move to speak, but she cut him off by raising her hand, "No. Wait. Hear me out. I've grown up hearing whispers behind my back like 'Jesus fuck man! Get a load of those tits!' or 'She looks easy, go bang her.' From what I've gathered, I'm good for a one night stand and a one night stand only. Pretty much every single guy I've ever met has come up to me for the size of my tits, or because apparently I'm 'hot'. They want girls who'll drop their panties around their ankles quicker than Clint can put an arrow through someone's eye. Men are don't like smart girls, or girls who show any type of backbone. We scare the ever living shit out of them because they want a girl who'll bend over backwards trying to please them without question. No guy has ever, _**ever**_ told me that I'm intelligent or witty, 'cause a lot of guys don't seem to want to date comediennes, they haven't told me that I'm actually beautiful, just hot- or on one memorable occasion; 'Super-fuckable'-, no man has ever found the fact I can kick a guys ass- even if it does belong to the God of Thunder- a turn on, they don't like that I have an opinion on everything and they certainly don't like it if I voice it." Goddammit. She'd made it this far without crying, and it seemed she wasn't going to get any further. At least not with the big fat tears that were currently rolling down her cheeks. "So thank you, Loki, thank you for everything you just said and more because it's the most kindest, sweetest thing I've ever been told in my entire life. I'm not sure if it's correct, or if I even deserve it, but thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me."

Darcy felt the hug before she realised it was happening. As far as she knew, Loki didn't _do_ physical contact. Aside from the occasional playful shove she gave him, or the odd shoulder punch she'd never really been this close to him. Granted, she'd held his hand a couple of times when she dragged him somewhere, and their time in the store room had put them in closer quarters, but still. Hugging him was something entirely new. Darcy found herself _loving_ it. He was warm and solid, and made he feel completely safe, which was ironic, considering he was an evil (read: totally misunderstood and actually really sweet and adorable and sexy!)super-villain. His arms were strong and went around her back completely, holding her to his chest perfectly. Speaking of, his chest was _perfect_; it wasn't ridiculously wide and buff like Thor's, but even with the sixteen billion layers of leather over it, she could tell it was all pure muscle. She knew full well he was of Frost Giant heritage, the whole 'hey I'm secretly a Smurf who lived in a freezer' thing didn't bother her at all, but she was a little confused as to why he was so lovely and warm. He was certainly cooler than most guys though, they all seemed to be boiling, like they were stood in furnaces. They made her overheat, but Loki... _damn_, she didn't fucking care how cliché it sound, Loki was the perfect temperature. Hell, she would go as far as to say Loki _**himself**_ was perfect. At least for cuddling and hugs anyway. There was no way she was letting him go now. In all future movie nights between the two of them, she was now officially making cuddling on the sofa mandatory. It took a good couple of minuets in his arms before she was able to get anything that remotely resembled words out of her mouth, but even then, she was cut off pretty quickly.

"Loki, I-"

"Shhhh," he soothed, rubbing circles on her lower back with his fingers. "It's fine, Darcy. Those things needed to be said, and I'm appalled that _I_ had to be the one to tell you."

Darcy jerked her head away from his chest and looked him straight in the eye, "Hell no. Don't you be giving me any of that 'oh woe is me, I'm unlovable and everyone hates me' crap." He frowned at her, but didn't say anything, so she took her chance and carried on. "Loki, look, you've been so nice to me today, heck, if I think about it, you've been unbelievably brilliant to me ever since the big dude with the weird golden eyes and funky hat-which by the way, ain't nowhere near as sexily awesome as yours is- dropped you down on this cute lil' planet. Which is what I'm trying to say. When you fell on Tony's roof last year, everybody thought you were still a big crazy evil dick, and to be honest, I'm not gonna blame them and I'm certainly not gonna disagree with them; you were and you still kinda are, but you're a fucking_ awesome_ crazy evil dick. You got avoided like the freakin' plague when you ended up down here, and I was told not to even give you the time of day- you know, 'fraternizing with the enemy and all that shit,'" By this point, she was putting her head back against his chest, angling it to the side so she could still speak. It was nice like this, she had her ear pressed up against just where his heart was and could hear his heartbeat clearly, even through all that leather. It was soothing, even more so when he put his cheek against the top of her head. "And I'll admit, about 45% of me came up to you for the specific reason of pissing of Fury, since that seems to be the Avengers main goal in life anyway, but the rest of me genuinely wanted to get to know you. Or at least find out if you were planning on smiting me in my sleep." His chest vibrated as he chuckled a little. "But seriously, you seemed to be getting on well pretty damn well with Tony- which is honestly what convinced me to say hello, cause' anyone who can go a week without punching tony in the face must have either a heart of gold or the worlds best temper," She felt him snort into her shoulder, "God, don't even get me fuckin' started, but I figured that meant you'd at least be able to put up with me and my own personal blend of crazy. And where everyone else found your tricks and pranks annoying and just plain fucking creepy, I found them freaking hilarious. Turning Clint's bow neon pink was pure _genius_ by the way. Your funny as hell, the smartest man I've ever met who isn't Tony or Bruce- and in some ways, I think you're smarter than the two of them put together, you're unbelievably sweet and kind- when you want to be- and I know full well you like to put on this whole 'oh look at me I'm a crazy evil tough dude' thing, but the truth is you're freaking _**adorable**_, like seriously, you're the cutest thing I've ever seen that wasn't some sort of kitten or snake. In fact, you're kind of a kitten-snake hybrid if you think about it... Never mind, that's for another day. The point I'm trying to make is, everything you just said about me, is also true about you, okay? It's all true, every last bit of it and then some. Don't you dare deny it, and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. Cause' if they do? I'm gonna take that sun-gun thing Coulson shot you with back when you were crazy, shove it up their ass and pull the trigger. Kay?"

She would never _ever _let someone tell him he wasn't worth it or not a nice person to be around. She would tell him those things every day if it meant he felt a little bit better about himself, or hated himself just a little bit less, and she bloody well planned to do so. She would stay here hugging him and telling him how utterly brilliant and perfect he was all day if she had to. And if she felt tears on her cheeks that definitely weren't hers... well. She'd just have to hug him longer, wouldn't she?

They held each other for what seemed like hours, crying into one another's various body parts. Darcy didn't know exactly when she'd started up again, but she guessed it was sometime during the end of her little speech. She wasn't particularly keeping time at this point; the door was probably still locked and it wasn't as if she had anywhere to be. Plus, she was perfectly content, the two of them sat on the floor together like this was certainly comfortable- at least, it was for her, but he wasn't exactly complaining, so she let him be. Her head was still on his chest, his head had slipped down slightly into the crook of her neck at some point, and had buried his face into her hair, but she didn't mind at all. Somewhere during there time on the floor, Darcy had thrown her leg over one of his, and he'd wrapped his ankle around hers, she could feel it. Her hands also seemed to have made their way north, with one hand resting on his shoulder, and a few of her fingers from the other hand were currently playing with the _gorgeously_ soft hair at the nape of his neck. She was barely aware she was doing it, and when she realised, she certainly wasn't going to stop. The only thing was that her hair and neck were a little damp, but it was about the same amount as his chest plate thing, but she didn't mind and he didn't seem to either.

She stopped crying a little before he did, but she didn't move. She would give him as much time as he needed.

It was pretty soon after she stopped crying that he did. There was a snuffle against her shoulder, and a few seconds later, he raised his head. She didn't say anything. She was terrified of spooking him, since the most likely thing to come out of her mouth was either a joke or sarcasm. They just stared at each other, until Loki took a shaky breath and a ragged "Thank you," slipped out.

She offered him a small smile and gave him a gentle nose boop. "Hey, don't thank me, thank all the dumbass gods who never told you how unbelievably awesome you are."

Loki let out a breathy chuckle- barely more than a gasp really- and cupped her face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush away the tears in the corners of her eyes.

She groaned a little, still smiling, and flapped her hand around his shoulder a bit. "Oh, god, don't," she shook her head, "I need to invest in some waterproof mascara." Sure enough, when he lifted his thumbs away, they had black smudges on them. He still kept his hands where they were though, she noticed, only moving his thumbs to her cheeks. He smiled at her, before unwrapping his arms from around her. She nearly groaned from the loss of contact, but reined it in at the last second. She managed to pry her own limbs away from his body without too much fuss- at least not out loud anyway- and watched as he stacked up he boxes they'd been sitting on and pushed them into a corner. She was starting to wonder what he was doing, but it was at that point he gently took hold of her arm and yanked her down to the floor with him. She landed with an ungraceful 'oomph!' beside him, but it seemed to make him smile a little in his eyes, so she let it go and busied herself with getting comfortable.

Which really wasn't all that hard.

In fact, she was almost ashamed of how quickly she was able to get comfortable.

Almost. Not quite. After all, she was a woman wasn't she?

They ended up side by side, pressed up against each other, with Loki's arm around her shoulder, her head leaning on his shoulder and his cheek on her head. Their legs were out in front of them; Darcy had hers over his and Loki had hooked his ankle around one of hers, something he seemed to be quite fond of. It was _adorable_, and made Darcy grin just looking at it. They were both ridiculously comfy and simultaneously let out a comfy- bordering on erotic- sigh. It made her wonder though; if literally just _sitting_ with him could make her this utterly fucking _blissful_, how the hell could he have lived god knows how long without some sort of peace or friendship? Those pricks up in Asgard could kiss her ass, they didn't _deserve_ to have a guy like Loki up here with them. She turned her head to look at him, and the sudden shift made him lift his head away a little so he could meet her gaze. "I mean it you know. Those idiots that somehow manage to get called gods don't know what they're missing. If I were them, I wouldn't let a day go by without telling you how awesome and brilliant you are."

Loki let out a sigh and pulled her a little closer to his side, "Unfortunately, I don't seem to appear as 'awesome' or 'brilliant' to them as I seem to do to you." His speech dipped a little at the end in what she guessed was sadness, since it wasn't harsh enough to be bitterness.

"Then they're just a great big bag of dicks."

Loki chuckled a bit.

"They're just jealous."

"They seem to be very good at hiding it."

They were both silent for a minuet.

"You know what?" Darcy said eventually, a stern, serious look on her face, "If any of them ever come down here, or I manage to end up in Asgard for random reason, I'm gonna find every single person who was ever mean to you and beat the ever-living _crap_ outa' them."

Loki laughed and rubbed his hand along her arm, "I have no doubt you couldn't, just try not to accidently declare war when you beat up all of Asgard."

Darcy didn't miss him saying _all _of Asgard, but didn't comment. She refused to get into that again after she'd just gotten him to cheer up. "You bet your sweet leather ass I could take 'em!" she cried, grinning when Loki laughed again. "But I won't make any promises on the war bit."

He grinned at her, a mischievous looking grin that sent a shiver down her spine, "I bet you'd be a _vision_, striding into the palace court and promptly tasering anyone who came too close in the genitals. You'd probably have Freya's head on a spike within the hour."

Darcy's eyes widened, "Freya? As in 'sexiest most beautiful and divine woman ever to set foot on this or any other earth who isn't Frigga', _that _Freya?"

He scoffed, "Oh _please_. She's a self-absorbed twit. Everything about her seems unreal and odd, she's arrogant and a gossip, and takes great pleasure in dropping people in the dark as soon as she feels she's found something more interesting to play with. I honestly have never seen why people flock to her as they do. Even her beauty is... off. You could easily knock her off her pedestal. Probably without even punching her, although I cant' tell you how much I would _love_ to see that."

Darcy's breath caught. Surely he couldn't mean... "Are you saying I'm prettier than Freya?"

Loki nodded, looking her straight in the eyes. "Most definitely."

She couldn't help it. He was so fucking _close_, and she was being so_,_ _so, __**so **_good.

And then he had to go and say _**that**_.

She just couldn't help herself.

She kissed him.

She briefly witnessed the look of sheer _terror _on his face as she grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him to her, but payed it no mind. He was a _god_, surely a woman putting the moves on him didn't scare him _that_ much? 'Well maybe it does.' Her mind supplied, 'He hasn't exactly had the most interactive past with the ladies has he now?'

Oh God.

What was she doing!? She could ruin everything!

She was just beginning to pull away when- _jeSUSFuckINGCHRisTwhATisHEDo inG!?_ Suddenly, Loki was _**there**_, kissing her, and running his hand over her back, the other curling around her cheek whilst the fingers played with her hair.

Fuck.

Darcy had never been so turned on in her _life_! His eyes were open, pupils full-fucking-blown and she _swore_ he was looking straight in to her soul, straight into her core. It made her shiver, and truth be told, it scared her a little, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't absolutely fucking love it. His lips were soft and warm, and- _oh __**god**__, now they were on her __**neck**_! "_**Fuck**__, Loki!" _She groaned a little, and then suddenly he was back, kissing her, looking at her, just like she was looking at him and those magnificent, beautiful, _perfect _blue and green eyes of his. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer, so that he was practically on top of her, and nipped at his bottom lip. His mouth opened and Darcy' brain went into overdrive. Because now there was _tongue_.

They did _**not**_ call him Silvertounge just because of his words, put it that way.

It was everywhere, fighting, but at the same time dancing, with her own. She sucked at his bottom lip and he grinned, fire in his eyes, before nipping at the corner of her own lips. She purred and ripped her lips away from his, giving him the slightest of seconds to get what she wanted. And by god, did she get it. Loki _growled_, and it went right through her. It was fucking _sinful_, that's how she would describe it. It sent tremors up and down her spine, and she wasted no time in attacking his neck, biting at his jugular like an animal, and though she certainly gave him some _lovely_ bruises on that gorgeous neck of his, she didn't go far enough to draw blood. Loki moaned her name, grabbing her hips and twisting them a little. She squeaked, and went to nip at the underside of his chin, getting a strangled "Darcy!" out of him, before moving down to the collarbone, licking and biting and sucking all the way. Loki practically started mewling, and she'd be damned if that wasn't the best thing she'd ever heard in her whole fucking life. She gave one last bite across his collarbone, scraping her teeth across the already bruising skin, and reached up, pouncing back on his lips. But Loki went for a few tricks of his own, unbeknownst to her, he'd already removed her earrings and tossed them on the boxes behind them. He pulled away from her, and she keened, leaning back up, but he simply smiled, and went for her earlobe. He took it between his teeth and tugged, before letting go and breathing beautifully hot breath over the shell of her ear. She bucked upwards, hissing in pleasure, and his grin widened. He brushed some of her hair away from her face and leaned in. She stopped, watching as he placed one, breathtaking kiss on her mouth and then went back to her ear. Then he took back the earlobe, and _sucked_. She howled his name, panting, then started clawing at the leather over his chest. He stopped the wonders on her ear, but still kept the lobe between his teeth, and chuckled, sending the vibrations straight through her ear and cheek, heading quickly south. He removed his hand from her back and clicked his fingers, and the leather vanished, leaving a simple black undershirt, which she promptly slid her hands beneath. He gasped her name and she grinned wickedly.

'Just wait till this damned shirt's off darling.' She thought.

OoOoO

They were so... busy with each other; neither of them noticed when the main lights flickered back on, nor did they hear the lock on the door click open.

So it was when Clint finally decided he'd had enough of hiding and dropped down from the air vents to find her, opening the door without knocking was a big mistake;

"Hey Darce, you in there? I know you've been looking for m-OH MY FUCKING GOD MY EYES, _MY EYES_, PHIL! PHIL THEY'RE SEXING IN A STORE CLOSET. THEY ARE ABOUT TO MAKE SEX, HOLY FUCK _I AM__**BLIND**_. MY EYES ARE FUCKING _BLEEDING_, GET ME SOME MOTHERFUCKING BRAIN BLEACH RIGHT NOW, BEFORE I SHOOT MYSELF IN THE FACE. MAKE THEM STOP PHIL, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD MAKE THEM FUCKING _**STOP**_."

Darcy simply threw a shoe at him, and carried on making out with The God of Mischief.


End file.
